No But Wolves, Moony
by lovelyapper
Summary: Quite suddenly, Remus is bearing a high fever that might rapidly lead to his death. James, Peter and Sirius must find out what is causing it, and help him at any cost. / Rated T for language, boy-on-boy action, and the hilarity that is Peter. MWPP. Sirius/Remus.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** The bloody AU's killing me, so... a short distraction? Yes please. I don't know if this has been done before, but anyway. I got the idea for this particular fic roughly 10 months ago, and then I forgot about this for a while, don't know what I've been doing with my time. Now I feel like I want to upload something, so here ya go! It's kind of... no, it is _immensely_ idiotic, but I've had fun writing/proofreading it! :D I hope you have fun reading it, too. This will be in three chapters and it's not going to get any better.

**Disclaimer:** I own none of this, except the shoddy storyline and the bad jokes.

**Beta:** None. English is not my first language.

Have fun & leave a comment! xo

* * *

On one not-so-special Friday morning, the dormitory room of certain Marauders was absolutely buzzing – and not with bees, not with bears, but with them aforementioned Marauders. (The bear at that one time was merely the outcome of some serious miscalculation on James' part and highly unrelated to the vicious bees on the following week. Sirius introduced those. He still had bruises.) The boys, oh they were extraordinarily great at buzzing, and if one was doubtful, one could always ask caretaker Filch or professor Flitwick for a clarifying opinion; they were sure present some greatly affirmative views on the subject whenever brought up.

While talking to Filch, however, changing the word "buzzing" to "chaos" would be recommended.

"We ready?" James swung his satchel strap on his shoulder as he uttered the lethargic question to his friends, but as usual, he got no immediate response. He idly turned his eyes on his wrist, to check the time on the clock he had on it. The clock was imaginary. "At any rate, we're going to be late, so... Whenever, you know."

"No but fuck, wait, I... shit, my robe's gone again," Sirius mumbled eloquently and dived under his duvet on his messy bed. For a second or two anyone (interested enough of his doings) saw nothing but his arse popping on the bed with a continuous "Where the hell is it, who stole it, motherfucker," but soon enough, from under the said comforter, Sirius emerged with a wide grin on his face. He waved his robe in the air as a mark of an obvious triumph. "All right. _Now_ we're ready!"

"Er, where's Moony?" asked Peter casually while tying his shoelaces near the end of his bed. It took all his greatest efforts and his tongue between his lips to manage that. Yes, he was seventeen.

Sirius, for his part, was trying to figure out where the hell was the left sleeve of his robe. "Isn't he in the toilet?" he asked and waved his clothing-free hand towards the door of the lavatory in question. "By now one might think he's turned into a bloody merman! Always playing with water, that one." He gave Peter an informing glance. "I checked for gills a few nights ago and I found nothing, but I'm still sceptic. These days... you just never know."

Peter made a face at him. "Wouldn't that make him a... mermanwolf?"

"Most certainly," James agreed. With that, he took a few quick steps towards the bathroom door to call the mermanwolf by cordially bashing his fist against the wood. "Moony? You still in there?" After a long-arse second of waiting, he tried again. "Hey, Lupin?" But as the three of them heard no reply whatsoever, James opened the door slowly and peered in the room. "No, it's empty."

Peter shrugged as he stood up. "Maybe he left early."

Finally having managed to turn the robe the right way around (but not put it on, that was a different story), Sirius shook his head and pointed a finger at the floor near Remus' nightstand. "Use your eyes, dumbarse. His shoes are there!" He shook his head in the rhythm of his words. "Neatly lined as always as though he's expecting a bloody room check from the house-elves or something." Sirius inclined his head in Peter's direction. "Now, do you honestly think that _he_ would go about only in his socks? Really."

"Perhaps he's asleep," James suggested to a full-body mirror he had found on the wall. bag had fallen on the floor again.

"Not possible, I'm sure I just saw him," said Sirius, but as though he wasn't certain, he quickly marched to Remus' four-poster. "Moony? You asleep?"

A reply (a slight murmur, to be exact) indicated that there was a marmot in Remus' bed.

Sirius, a self-proclaimed animal enthusiast, exclaimed, "Coming in!" and he opened the boy's bed curtains, only to find himself considerably disappointed as he did not see a marmot, but a very red Remus, mumbling and still buried under his duvet. Sirius frowned at the sight. "Remus?"

James nodded to himself as he studied his evidently flawless reflection in the mirror. "I told you. He's still snoozing." He swept his fingers on his jawline and his eyes travelled to rest on the Head Boy pin he had above his heart. "Got to give him credit, though. With the amount of work he's put in the N.E.W.T.s, I'd be bushed, too." Then he grinned. "But I'm not."

"That's because you don't study," noted Peter helpfully.

After tossing his robe on Remus' bed by the boy's legs, Sirius sat on the edge of the mattress and thoughtfully poked Lupin on his cheek. "Moony?" He frowned even deeper as he turned his eyes to James. "He's fucking hot!"

"Him?" Peter appeared from somewhere and peered inside Remus' bed, taking in the werewolf's unquestionably somnolent state over Sirius' shoulder. "Yeah... I don't think so." He straightened his back and cleared his throat. "Come on, wake him up and let's go. I'm starving, and it's Friday! We all know what that means!"

James, as well as Sirius, ignored Peter's following tirade about crispy bacon resting on a sultry bed of baked beans, and he hoisted his bag again on his shoulder, after which he marched beside Sirius. James shook his head at the guy. "Sirius, leave your mates out of the sex equation, will you? No one wants to shag you and you might as well get used to it."

Focused on staring at Remus' strangely red cheeks, Sirius said sluggishly, "Pete's never been in the equation..." His voice got more power as he lifted his gaze on James. "Also, I mean he's burning up."

"Fondling him already?" James asked, but moved closer to feel Remus' sweaty forehead. He didn't need too long to have reached a conclusion. "He has a fever," he settled simply, wiping his hand on Sirius' shoulder. "Quite a bad one, actually."

"Poor Moony," said Sirius quietly.

Remus murmured something under his breath.

From James' other side, Peter shouted, "What a fever! He's totally out of it, talking about pickles."

"He said it tickles," Sirius clarified as if it was obvious what Remus had said. He stood up, quickly gathered Remus' duvet off him, and started hoisting the boy up in a sitting position on the bed edge, which was rather difficult since Remus was basically unconscious and Sirius wasn't the brawniest of men. His arms under Remus' armpits Sirius puffed to his two standing friends, "We need to get him to Poppy. Now."

"And how are we going to do that?" James asked jovially and pulled his wand out of the side pocket of his satchel. "Levitate him under the Cloak? Pete, it's in my trunk. Go get it."

"Don't bother." Once Sirius had managed to get Remus in a somewhat upright position, he crouched in front of him and started gently slapping his cheek. To James he said over his shoulder, "We're not going to levitate him." He kept his eyes on Lupin's red, sweaty face. "Remus, hey, wake up."

James tilted his head at the sight. "Then what? Float him to the infirmary on a river of blood?" He thought about it. "...That might actually work. Let's do that."

Sirius left Remus's mug alone and turned his eyes on James. "Don't be an arse!" he said heatedly. "Pete doesn't have that much blood in his body."

Again standing next to James, Peter tossed his arms in the air, annoyed. "I do too!" He moved his hips as though he had a hula hoop. "What do you think pumps through all these manly veins?"

"Lard?" James asked him with a snigger.

"An obvious choice, but no," said Peter with a wide grin.

"Don't you two wags worry, _I'll_ carry him," Sirius briskly informed his friends and positioned himself in front of Lupin, bringing Remus' lifeless arms on his shoulders and trying his hardest to hoist the boy's unresponsive body on his back. He tightly wrapped his arms behind Remus' torso and attempted to hold him firmly in place as the boy's head lolled on his shoulder. And with this, Sirius strained to stand up, but his legs shook under the extra weight and he had to place Remus back sitting on the bed again. "Nope," Sirius snorted as he crouched on the floor again, Remus' arms still on his shoulders. He watched James in the eye. "Assistance, if you'd be so kind."

But as James took a saving step towards them, Remus' arms tightened around Sirius' neck and he nuzzled his burning face against Sirius' shoulder. Sirius quickly tried to remove the guy's grabby hands, but couldn't.

They were like glued on him.

How about that.

"Who knew?" barked Peter way too cheerfully. "The germ freak is clingy as shit."

James raised his brows at Sirius. "Lupin seems to think you don't need any assistance." He made a hand gesture at them both. "And, as you know, he's usually right about these things. So, try again! Hold him by his arse, see if that makes any difference."

And Sirius did. He inhaled heavily, slowly rose from the floor with the weight, and this time brought his hands to hold Remus by his thighs, thus securing him better from not falling on the floor. The boy's arms were still tightly around his neck, almost strangling him.

"Fine then," Sirius wheezed pathetically and turned his eyes on Peter. "Toss my robe on him, so he won't freeze with the, eh, fever, if that makes any sense."

Once the werewolf was somewhat covered, they unhurriedly started to make their way to the infirmary instead of breakfast, and with every step toward the lair of Madame Pomfrey, Peter's wails about a doomsday without a proper start grew louder than those of an infant who had lost his gummy grip on his mother's tit.

* * *

Sirius panted in a way he had after their first-ever flying class as he lowered Remus on the nearest empty hospital bed, which just happened to be rather far from the infirmary doors. He was near falling down on the floor when Madame Pomfrey hurried to them from wherever the hell she had been.

"Boys! What's happened _now_? What is going on?"

Instead of answering the matron, Sirius had indeed ended up on the stone floor and was groaning like a dying dog.

"Lupin supposedly has a killer fever," said James matter-of-factly to Pomfrey and then gestured at Sirius, who had rolled on his back, had bent his knees up and looked alarmingly like he was going to give birth to someone. "Black here, he's on his last legs because of his immense stupidity. He didn't want to sacrifice Pete's unspoiled blood for a good cause."

Ignoring James' rambling and Peter's vigorous nodding next to him, Madame Pomfrey pushed by them to feel Remus' forehead. "Heavens to Merlin!" She shushed the boys away with a stern, "Move away from him! He needs breathing space, not you huddling over him," after which she started loading all sorts of bottles and packages on a small table between the bed in which Remus was and the one next to it.

Peter tried not to ogle at a pair of rusty sheep shears the matron placed on the table.

"Is he going to be all right?" Sirius asked shakily from the floor. He was feeling his pulse on his throat. "Also... ugh. Am _I_ going to be all right? Can my heart rate stop if it gets too fast, as in a heart attack? Poppy? Can a _trifling_ tachycardia lead to death?" No one said anything to him and he sighed. "I'm too young to die. I most definitely need a few more years to sort my affairs."

With one swift move James pulled him up and gave his back an encouraging pat. "Your heart's fine, surely," he told Sirius with a nod. "Just think of this as a grand opportunity for your black ticker to show us that it is, in fact, still purposeful in other means than just pumping that itty-bitty amount of blood through your body, in favour of keeping your teensy todger in the wanking business." James tilted his head compassionately at his friend. "It's worth so much more, your heart."

Sirius pouted at him. "Not a teensy todger, James; his name is _Excalibur_! I've told you this many times, and you've seen him." He crossed his arms on his chest as a manifestation. "There's nothing small about him."

"You keep telling yourself that," said James with a smile.

The matron was fussing about the bed. "Lads, you all have classes to attend to! Please. I need to run some tests on Mr Lupin and you cannot be present, talking about your adolescent genitals." She waved her hands at them. "Things can be rather difficult as it is, and I cannot guarantee what would happen to Mr Lupin if I'm holding a needle while you three continue talking beside me."

Peter squinted as he measured Remus' wilted body with his eyes. "Well, he can't get much worse than that, now can he? He looks like a stale oyster."

As the matron started to shoo them away from the bed, Sirius brought his hands to tug his robe sleeve – the exact same robe which was in Remus' unconscious and very tight grasp on the bed. "He won't let go of my robe," whined Sirius pitifully as Remus' grip only tightened around the fabric. "And I can't go about naked in my slipover!"

"You are not naked," James obligingly noted Sirius. "Which is muchly appreciated. Now, shall we?" James witnessed Sirius ignore him completely and continue pulling his robe. That didn't discourage him, however, rather it brought more vigour in his voice. "We've already missed breakfast, yeah? As the Head Boy I should set an example to others and shouldn't have more than two detentions per week. I had my _second_ one yesterday." As Sirius kept ignoring him, James turned his eyes on Peter. "Second one! That's two, right?"

"You're done for," agreed Peter.

"I'm going to leave his arse here to rot," responded James under his breath.

"...I guess there's no around to it," sighed Sirius despondently to himself as he finally let go of the fabric. "I have to stay here." He lifted his hands up in the air, as if surrendering to the horrible situation, and turned his gaze to his friends. "I cannot go to Herbology! Please inform professor Sprout that I am in no condition of –"

"Mr Black, I'm sure all of your professors will understand if you tell them that your robe is under quarantine in the infirmary," Madame Pomfrey said to Sirius with an annoying smile. "If they don't, then I assure you it will be brought to you in your detention _if_ Mr Lupin lets go of it."

* * *

During the classes of that Friday the three boys concentrated on their studies in a very peculiar manner. A few of their professors actually thought out loud that perhaps they were planning on something nasty again, but if any of them would have asked the boys, their joint answer explaining their silent and contemplative state would have been, "Except for Sirius' nakedness there is nothing unusual about us today, we are always so very quiet, and what's so wrong with studying every now and then anyway, honestly now." No one asked them, however, and the boys were able to concentrate fully on making the hours go faster.

They were very surprised to notice that it actually worked.

Around 5pm that day, Madame Pomfrey stood by the bed in which Remus was peacefully sleeping – he wasn't as red as he had been that morning, neither was he frowning nor muttering in his sleep – and the matron spoke in a soft but clear voice, darting her eyes from the bed to the standing, expecting professor McGonagall.

"Never have I seen a fever so high," the matron said thoughtfully to the teacher, who crossed her arms on her chest. "But for now, I have managed to lower it with medication, which, in turn, is prone to make him sleep. He was, but is not in an imminent danger anymore, and I'm positive that the medication will take care of the fever completely while he's asleep." Pomfrey offered the teacher a smile. "At least I hope so."

Half covered under the Invisibility Cloak and half behind one of the folding screens in the infirmary, Sirius cringed because of the matron's words and whispered to his friends, "Suppose it's pretty bad if Poppy's never seen a fever like it? If he gets knocked out with meds, right?"

James and Peter silently nodded beside him, keeping their eyes on the women.

McGonagall asked the matron something with a low voice the boys weren't able to decipher, and Pomfrey answered her with, "Via bodily fluids, yes, but I believe I speak for Mr Lupin if I say that other students are not in danger on that front."

Peter mouthed to himself, "_Bodily fluids_?"

After snatching a notepad from a table next to Remus's bed, Pomfrey eyed it while resuming, "With the tests I was able to run with the equipment I have here, I came to the conclusion that the fever has something to do with Mr Lupin's... well, his physiology, rather than his surroundings." She lowered her voice a bit. "Although running outside in the middle of the night probably doesn't do him that much good, being the way he is."

"How long is he going to stay here?" asked professor McGonagall austerely, opting to ignore Pomfrey's words. "Is a weekend sufficient amount of time for the recovery? He has tests to study for, as do most of the seventh years."

"As I said, the medicine should take care of the fever in no time. After that his health should improve quickly."

The professor inclined her head slightly. "Normally when a student has a fever, however, you don't call on us. I believe there is a reason behind this visit."

Quietly bringing the notepad to her chest as if hugging it, the matron kept her eyes on McGonagall and flashed her a warm smile. "The few times Mr Lupin _was_ conscious during the day, all he managed to convey was that he wanted to return to his dormitory room. In fact," Pomfrey kept a small pause, moving her gaze on Remus. "Mr Lupin pleaded me to let him go. As you are aware, professor, he does not want to spend his time in the infirmary, not even when it's absolutely necessary." She smiled sadly at McGonagall, who said nothing back and just stood there, like a scarecrow. "I'm sure the boys know his obstinate character, as well, so this won't be a surprise to them."

"Sodding mule Moony!" Peter hissed and received a bloodcurdling glare from Sirius. Peter shrivelled visibly. "...Sorry."

"Poppy, I sincerely hope you are not suggesting what I think you are suggesting," said professor McGonagall, her voice strict and making the boys shiver slightly under the Cloak. Yet, despite of her unwavering stance, apparently she wasn't angry because of the matron's words, for there was a knowing smile on Madame Pomfrey's lips.

Sirius frowned and mumbled, "Are they... moving him back to the dormitory?" He turned his eyes on James, who, similar to himself, was furrowing his brows in disbelief. "He can't get better there. Actually I'm pretty sure he's going to die, because Pete honestly reeks like a rotten motherfucker." He proceeded to glower at Peter again. "Have you _ever_ heard of a bath?"

"Yes, and it sounds scary," Peter told him flatly.

"Shush," James muttered and pointed a finger at the women.

Again Pomfrey had her soothing smile directed at Remus. "From a medical point of view, it's best for him to try to recover in a place in which he enjoys to be, a place he finds comforting, rather than in one from which he constantly strives to get away." Nodding as though reassuring herself, the woman lifted her eyes on the professor. "This way we ensure that his recuperation will be fast and efficient, and most likely happening during the course of the weekend. If we keep him here, constricted and with people he is not close to, it is highly probable that he becomes stressed and it might prolong his illness, perhaps even making it worse."

"You said the medication won't allow it?"

The matron shook her head, gently gesticulating towards Remus. "The fever should subside, but if that fails to happen, we have no other choice than to have him transferred to St Mungo's for more advantageous treatment. I haven't that sort of medicine in my supply. The medicine I used on him now is the strongest kind I have and if that doesn't work..." Pomfrey trailed off.

"Oh shit," mumbled Sirius helplessly. He was tightly gripping the side of the folding screen and was positively grimacing. "To a hospital? No fucking way."

"Very well," agreed McGonagall tersely, sounding as though she wanted to leave the situation as quickly as possible. "I allow the transfer, but it is necessary that the boys are informed of the situation."

"Naturally."

The professor nodded concisely. "Will Lupin have medication with him after he's relocated to his dormitory room?"

Puckering his brows, James glanced at Peter. "You sing pretty nice lullabies, don't you?"

"I have all the seductive power of a sedative, yes," Peter breathed back at him, but kept his eyes on the women.

"He has got the highest dose of the drug, and medicating him further at this point is not necessary," Madame Pomfrey told the teacher. "The fever, as I said, is down at the moment, but I am sad to say we do have to rely heavily on the fact that Mr Lupin will be in his own bed and it will make him recover faster." Snappily she placed the notepad on Remus' bedside table, swaying on her toes a bit. "Professor," she then started again, with a lower voice as if she didn't want anyone to hear her. "Would the patient be anyone else, I wouldn't be as worried, for youngsters usually do have a better natural ability to battle against these things. However, at the moment, even without the fever, Mr Lupin isn't at his strongest."

Professor McGonagall nodded briefly as if they were talking about the weather. "Should the fever stay, or come back?"

The matron sighed slightly and shook her head, saying, "Then we will have to admit that our efforts have been for nothing, move Mr Lupin back in here and rethink the possibility of the hospital. The change to the dormitory is purely experimental. If his fever returns or doesn't seem to give in, then... unfortunately, I'm not able to do much more for him here at Hogwarts."

Sirius turned his worried eyes on James, who peered back at him, the small crease staying between his bushy brows. Peter wasn't frowning; he had found a rainbow spider and was naming him George.

Again the professor nodded at the matron, her bun of hair popping on top of her head slightly. "I hope you know what you are doing, Poppy."

* * *

"Poppy said it's his physiology," Sirius quietly repeated to his friends as they made their way from the infirmary to their tower after professor McGonagall had left. Sirius watched James shove the Invisibility Cloak under his robe. "Clearly that means his... you-know-what, right? The varying amount of back hair he has due to lunar fluctuation?" He glanced at Peter. "I mean what else could it be?"

"Right," said James and Peter in unison. George said nothing because he was a spider. Nodding at Sirius' expression, James continued with an agreeing, "His problem, yes. His _you-know-what_, absolutely. His beast to my beauty. Of course."

"You lot are talking about his dick, right?" asked Peter happily and got a smack from Sirius on the back of the head. Peter's arms flew above his head. "It was a joke, you lout!" He turned his eyes on his hands. "Great, you scared George! Where did he go?"

"Fuck George! His dick is not a joke when he's dying," Sirius told Peter angrily. He brought a hand to his short hair, brushing it backwards from the top. "Now, squires. Think. What do we do about this thing with him? There must be something we can do."

Immediately James stopped in his tracks and tugged Sirius from the arm, making him stop as well. He flashed a smile. "What do you mean what do we do?" With a frozen grin he eyed Sirius and glanced at Peter, who had ceased walking as well. James' eyes hopped from one expectant face to another. "Do we need to do something? I don't think there's anything we should do, or I don't know, _can_ do. Poppy sounds like she's unable to anything, and to my knowledge she's a professional." James waved his hand in front of Sirius' face. "We're not physicians, Sirius, we've barely finished with this bloody school. Pete has problems getting his pants on in the morning! What can _we_ do?"

Sirius sneered at him. "I, for one, am not going to just sit about with a dry thumb up in my arse!"

"Well what else is there?" asked James helplessly.

As it would have given him the ultimate answer, Peter silently pointed his index finger at a sign above a humongous arch doorway behind James.

| The Library |

"Pete, you boob, you know we're not allowed to go in there," Sirius whispered as he craned his neck to see inside the library a few minutes later. He saw Madame Pince sit behind her counter, eyeing the place like a constipated hawk. "We're banned until mid-December, remember? And she takes that stuff super seriously." Sirius gestured at the woman, who was glaring at a small group of first year Hufflepuffs. "I mean look at her! I don't even think she breathes, let alone lets someone do something she doesn't appreciate." He turned his gaze on James and Peter. "And she doesn't appreciate us."

"No, _you_ are banned – she doesn't appreciate _you_. It has nothing to do with us," James told Sirius cheerfully, pointing an informative finger at himself and Peter. "We're okay with her. We. The two of us." He kept his eyes on Sirius, who started to seem rather annoyed in turn. "You, on the other hand, are not! Yeah? Thanks to that dungbomb which you so cordially decided to blow up in front of her desk, as a statement of..." James licked his lips and turned his eyes on Peter. "What was it again?"

Instantly Peter said, "_Reading stinks_."

Sirius huffed something along the lines of "Well, Poppy did mention that someone should probably be there for Remus anyway when he gets transferred to the dormitory room, so perhaps I'll just be the perfect man to manage that" under his breath, and James asked him with a smirk, "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said I don't even want to go!" Sirius grumbled snappily. "Pince is annoying and books are... books! Who likes books?" He pointed an annoyed finger at his friends. "Fuck you two."

"All right, now that I've got you somewhat angry, say we're going in. Pete and I. What are we looking for again?" asked James while lazily rubbing his left eye. "As in, I think we should know what we are looking for before we go looking for it."

Peter eyed him hopefully. "We could try and find George, if he scurried in there."

"Pete, honestly." Sirius made a face at the boy and thought about what James had said, biting his lower lip. Then he went on with, "Try to find something... er, _anything_ to do with werewolves or wolves in fever. There's a ton of books about both, I think? There might be something useful there." He looked almost nervous. "There has to be, and if there isn't, _someone_ is going to burn that inadequate waste of space down to the ground."

With a mere brief nod, James left for the library, but Peter stared at Sirius as though he was utterly mad. "You're utterly mad!" the boy hollered. "It might take ages to find anything useful!"

Sirius shoved him after James. "Then don't just stand about, you bum, go!"

* * *

Sirius, forbidden from participating in the gleeful time in the dusty library and thus absolutely downhearted and gloomy, was about to take a relaxing bath.

After James and Peter had indeed descended into the pit of bookish abyss, Sirius had dashed to the Gryffindor tower to wait if Madame Pomfrey would bring Remus there. About 20 minutes later she had, with the aid of two bulky Ravenclaws and a stretcher, and Remus had been put to his own bed, with very strict instructions and such from Pomfrey to Sirius, considering Remus' state (as if Sirius didn't already know) and what the boys should do if the fever came back – and that was to immediately contact Pomfrey.

Thinking of how he definitely wouldn't do anything of the sort, Sirius folded his removed clothes neatly on top of his trunk at the end of his bed. On his way to the bathroom on his mere socks and boxers, he took a quick peek at Remus, who was sleeping soundly in his own bed – still hugging Sirius' robe, by the way.

"Oh, come on," Black muttered irritably, stepping closer to the unconscious boy. He tugged the robe from a loose end. "That's not your blanket, you twit!"

Remus whined something back and tightened his grip around the black fabric, bringing it closer to his face. Sirius groaned at him again, and with force he yanked the robe away from the guy's clutch, after which he tossed it over his own trunk, on top of his clothes.

"Listen to me, you numbskull," he slowly started. "You _cannot_ have it." Remus, the numbskull in question, just turned on his side, back facing Sirius and still whimpering in his sleep.

Sirius nodded at him.

"Yeah, you better," he said to Remus' back and moved to pull the duvet better on the guy. He patted Remus' shoulder. "You just stay there until I'm done with my bath, okay?" Naturally he got no answer and he nodded. "...Okay. Potter and Pete are trying to find out what the fuck's wrong with you, so just stay put, all right? Don't go wandering off. I don't need any crazy business, which... er –"

He stared at Remus' exposed, slightly red neck.

"Why am I even talking to you?" Sirius then asked and turned to leave for the bathroom. "You're completely comatose!"

Remus and his sleeping back agreed unanimously on that.

When Sirius strutted out of the bathroom a good fifteen minutes later, only in his towel and dripping water all over the place as usual, he marched straight towards Remus' bed, a "If you want, I can draw you a bath" on his tongue, but alas! Remus was gone.

"Really? What did I say?" Sirius shouted. "What the hell did I say?" He was already stomping towards the dormitory room door, holding the dark red Gryffindor towel on his hip with his left hand, and ready to yank the door open with his right. "Where in the bloody hell could he –"

It was then when he realised that he indeed was only wearing a towel and people would certainly not appreciate that. A naked Sirius Black?

A travesty, according to professor McGonagall.

"Fuck me!" Sirius intelligently exclaimed, and then ran to his bed to snatch the old trousers from the pile of clothing – thus rendering the bath absolutely pointless.

Yet, his brain stopped when he saw Remus purring into his pillow.

On his messy bed.

Seemingly happy and hugging his robe.

* * *

Remus moved like he was in the midst of liquid fire; he lulled in a way he was trying to get away from it, yet letting the warmth soothe his aching skin was something of which he wasn't instantaneously ready to let go.

He smelled something odd in the middle of his red-hot surroundings, but he wasn't able to pinpoint where its source was, no matter how much he attempted. The only thing certain was that the scent seemed to linger right under his nose, but mysteriously enough, he saw nothing when he glanced at beneath him.

Fervently he struggled to move closer to the aroma, letting his hips sway as he floated on the hot cloud. He moved his limbs like an actual merman would, swimming towards the current of the heat and enthusiastically drowning in the sensation while doing so.

He felt as the flow around him abruptly changed pace – it turned quicker and into something Remus wasn't able to control in the slightest. As he tried to glide closer to the lovely thing he had sensed earlier, the lulling warmth, the calming scent, it felt as though his limbs suddenly had their own will and they did whatever Remus didn't want them to do.

All of a sudden, he saw a blinding white light over the red mist and covering his eyes seemed like the next logical thing to do, for somehow he knew that if he looked at it for too long, he would suffer from it later.

The light came closer despite his efforts to flee from it, and it shrouded him until he saw absolutely nothing.

* * *

Softly rubbing his left temple as though he had a headache in the making, James kept an interested brow lifted at the bed in front of him.

"Maybe..." Sirius thought out loud next to him, cocking his head slightly to the left and scratching his chin. He was still only wearing the towel and it was loosely hanging on his hip. His eyes were nailed on his bed as well. "...No. No, I don't think so. It doesn't make any sense."

"No matter how you look at this," started Peter from Sirius' left and brought his hands to his chest. "He was dry humping your bed."

"That's definitely what it seemed, all right," James noted whilst keeping his eyes on Lupin, who was again sleeping soundly, hugging Sirius' duvet and his robe with his arms and legs, like a bear hanging from a tree after having passionate sex with it. James tilted his head backwards while drumming his fingers on a book he had in his hands. "The question that lurks now amongst us is _why_."

Shrugging, Sirius shook his head. "Beats me! When I do it, I _want_ to do it – not because the mattress begs me to ravish it, which..." He pursed his lips a bit as he kept eyeing Remus' overly happy face. "Which seems to be the case here. Look at the way he's fondling my pillow. It's as though he's in love with it."

"Oh yes!" James suddenly exclaimed with a smug grin and turned to Sirius on his left. "That reminds me. We came here to tell you how magnificent we are." He nodded at his own words and said to Peter, "Pete, my man, tell him how magnificent we are."

"We are _very_ magnificent," concurred Peter happily, flicking a finger at Sirius. "Our skill knows no bounds. We should get a medal."

"You found something?" Sirius asked them as he turned his eyes away from Remus. "So soon?"

Peter nodded at him and crossed his arms on his chest again, trying to make himself seem more serious. "Yes, it was very unusual; the fact that we both gathered a lapful of books, about six each, although my lap's a tad bigger –"

"Never mind that," James said to Sirius. "We found a solution for this," he gestured at the whole of Remus, "_problem,_ from the third book we browsed through. I'm very glad it was so easy after all, otherwise this might have taken a lot longer."

Peter dipped his head once more. "Naturally."

"So, what did you find?"

"First," James said and without a word he gestured Peter to take action on the following: the sturdy boy moved closer to the bed and double-snapped his fingers in front of the sleeping boy's face. Nothing happened. Evidently pleased with the situation, James smirked to himself. "Good, he's still at it."

"That's a good thing, then? Being unconscious?" Sirius winced. "Barely."

"Well, he would faint if he'd hear this," resumed Potter and turned around the ancient-looking book he had in his lap. He showed the brown leather cover to Sirius. "This is _The Times and Lives of the Three Goblin Kings and the Encounter of the Mystical_, and there's something very interesting here."

Suddenly Sirius looked very hopeful. "Really? What?"

"It's about grandwolf mating," James told him flat out with an absolutely serious face.

Peter snickered in his imaginary beard on the other side of Sirius. "It's brilliant."

"I'm sure it is, but I don't think that'll help us," Sirius said while keeping his eyes on James. He pointed a finger at Remus. "Is he mating? _No_, he has a fever. Remember?" Sirius flashed a tad annoyed smile at James. "_A fever_."

"No, no, listen," James hurried, and he opened the book from where his index finger was stuck in between as a bookmark. After a few seconds, he started again, "Now. 'It is said that by the time a grandwolf is of age and ready for mating, the wolf at hand must join with the one it has found and considers as a mate, or the consequences shall be atrocious.'" He lifted his glinting eyes on Sirius. "How does that sound?"

"Rubbish," Sirius told him immediately and strode to his trunk. "Go back, and don't return till you've found something genuinely useful." He tossed his dirty clothes on the floor and opened the chest to find clean ones.

James turned back to the book, but dawdled closer to Sirius. "Yeah, well, it continues: 'Despite of its horrendous appearance, a grandwolf is essentially a sensual being. Our encounter with one was the vilest of a kind as the beast was in search of its mate – it howled, clawed, and bit everything in its path; sometimes it bit its fangs into its own flesh, tearing it to shreds as its howls grew louder and more agonising. After reporting it in the neighbouring village, we were educated that if a grandwolf does not express its want of a mate, the frustration inside of it develops until it cannot control its own body any longer; the deranged yearning turns the animal fatefully ill, possibly engendering bruises and gashes all over its skin, which over time will become inflammatory up until the point the creature finds itself a cave in which it dies from an..." James nodded proudly at the pages. "...incurable _fever_.'" He looked up at Sirius with a content grin. Sirius was finally wearing a new pair of boxers. "As I said."

Sirius glanced at Peter, who smirked in a similar fashion behind James, and then gazed back at Potter. "Deathly mating? Are you two serious?" He pulled a face and ruffled his hair with the towel. "That sounds fucking stupid."

"Yes, but it fits. He's 17, the fever –"

"The horrendous appearance," added Peter.

James concluded with a simple, "Everything."

"Except that tiny part where he mates with someone!" Sirius pointed out and again gestured at the snoozing individual. He tossed the towel on the floor near the bathroom door and continued protesting, "He's unconscious, not pining for some piddling bird! Come on, James, you can do better than this."

James shut the book with a soft slam. "That's the point, if I understood this correctly. Maybe he's kept his desire to mate in secret for too long and is now suffering because of it? Maybe he's finally ready to do that? Who knows." He shrugged as he watched Sirius swagger back towards his own bed. "It actually makes total sense if you think about it. On... some sort of a grandwolf scale, of course, but it does."

As though he had hard time believing anything that came out of his friend's mouth, Sirius shook his head and leant himself against a pole at the end of his own four-poster. He crossed his arms on his bare chest and again glimpsed at James, who had sat on Remus' adjacent bed. Black squinted a bit. "The book said something about cuts and bruises? As far as I can see, he hasn't any of them."

"Not at the moment," remarked Peter.

Hugging the book while contemplatively staring at Remus, James said, "Pete's right; he might have had, but we didn't tell them apart from his usual ones." He took a sight of Sirius, who was frowning very deeply and was biting his lip again. "It was full moon a mere week ago, and he was in bandages up until yesterday. You said it yourself, they looked especially nasty this time."

"Yes, for a werewolf," concurred Sirius in a frustrated manner. "That's what he is! Not a regular one running about the Forbidden Forest, conning rabbits and munching on manky rats." He waved his hand at Peter, who had huffed at him. "No offense." Then he returned his gaze on James. "Werewolves don't _mate for life_. Wolves might, swans probably do, I couldn't care less about turtle doves." Sirius inclined his head as though it was going to help him to get his point across. "But werewolves? No. Think about for a few seconds how incredibly loopy you sound for even suggesting that right now."

"I believe it's the perfect time to sound loopy," mumbled James and smiled infuriatingly back at the boy. "Besides, you should really think about all the bizarre stuff we've seen during our lives. This wouldn't even be that odd."

"Definitely in my top 20, though," said Peter meditatively while ogling at Lupin.

Sirius exaggerated a shudder as he left the pole alone. "Oh, for fuck's sake, why are we talking about this? Grandwolf mating? Cheers for sharing, James, I feel the stupid on me now!" He walked to Peter and gestured at himself. "Honestly, is it on me?" Sirius grimaced pathetically. "Can you see it? The stupid?"

"Yes, it's all over you," Peter noted helpfully. "Especially on your face."

"I need another bath," moaned Sirius with an infantile pout, stepped closer to his bed and dropped his eyes on Remus again. "No, but really, look at him! With that sort of a pleased grin he doesn't exactly look like a menacing _grandwolf_." Sirius snorted at his friends. "Seriously – what kind of a grandwolf gives the silent treatment when I haven't done Binns' homework? Or throws a tantrum when Padfoot muddies the bed? _My_ bed? Not his!"

Peter nodded, agreeing. "He's not even a grand werewolf. He's... kind of a lame one if you ask me. Drooling away, in a rented flat in Cloudland."

"Exactly, thank you!" yelped Sirius and after a while of merely staring at the sleeping guy, he sighed. "But no matter much an annoying mother hen he is, I still do like him."

"Everyone and their mother likes him," said Peter straightaway. "Well, probably not yours," he then added, waving his hand at Sirius, who was seating himself on his bed next to Remus' legs and who was looking extraordinarily worried.

"Were they werewolves or real ones, I think all wolves stem from grandwolves in one way or another," James told them both with a knowledgeable shrug as he again read the text from the book he had reopened. He glanced at his friends. "I reckon they were like the ultimate wolf forefathers, the grandwolves." But, as evidently the text offered him no new information, he closed the book and tossed it behind himself on Remus' bed, rubbed his face and shoved his hands into his hair. "Shit, I wish we could ask! The walking Encyclopaedia would know, but he's out of order."

Sirius bit the nail of his index finger. "Did it say he's going to die from this?" He left Remus' face alone and turned his gaze on James, who nodded as a reply. "Really? Die-die, as in goodbye Remus and whatnot?"

"Yes," James said plainly. "An excruciating death of an incurable fever. Sounds juicy if you ask me." James lifted his eyes on Peter. "I'd prefer incineration myself."

While leaning himself against a small dresser between Sirius and Remus' beds, Peter agreed gloomily. "Who wouldn't."

Sirius shook his head and made a face at Remus, who, naturally, didn't do much in return. "He's going to be absolutely infuriated, dying before graduating." He gently patted Lupin's legs and then turned his eyes on James and Peter. "Right. We have no other options – we must cure the wolf fever."

"I'm sorry what?" asked James as though he hadn't heard a word what Sirius was saying.

"True or not, we can't have him excruciated to death. Sounds way nasty."

James stared at Sirius, who looked, well, serious. "It's supposedly incurable, and you want to cure it? Reach for the stars, will you."

Sirius nodded back at him like it was obvious. "He can't die!" Then he thought of something while scratching his knee. "I mean he _can_, but he shouldn't. Not this weekend. We've been planning on plundering Filch's office supplies for weeks now; we need him." As his friends just kept eyeing him doubtingly, Sirius added, "And let's face it, if he dies we're all screwed. He keeps us grounded."

"Good enough for me." James cracked his knuckles and neck as if he was going to fight the fever away. Stretching his back muscles, he asked, "What's the plan, then? How to cure an incurable werewolf mating illness?" He turned to the dresser. "Pete?"

"Well –" started Peter confidently, but nothing came out of him. "I have no idea," he ended grimly.

"Okay, um," Sirius began, slight uncertainty in his voice. He shrugged lopsidedly as his friends were watching him expectantly again. "What them dumbarse goblin kings obviously didn't even consider, is that if we... er, I don't know, find out who this bird he fancies is and tell Moony to... _mate_ with her, he'll be all right, right?" He kept peering at his friends, who didn't exactly look motivated. "Right? Naturally, we need her consent, we're not going to push him to molest anyone. Then again in his condition..." Sirius tilted his head and gently gesticulated at Remus. "The only problem we might eventually encounter is _how_ are we going to make him mate with anyone while he's... like this. Otherwise I'd say this will be rather easy."

"Yes," Peter agreed slowly. "Because finding out important shit about this guy is always so bloody fun and _easy_. Remember our second year, yeah?" He glimpsed at James. "Trying to find out what was wrong with him was as much fun as ramming something thorny up in your arse without a whole tube of lubrication."

James leant his elbows on his knees and nodded, as in favour of Peter's viewpoint. "Yes," he started in a friendly manner, "but we did find out eventually that he's a werewolf. Thus, your argument is, as always, invalid."

"No," Peter corrected him, standing up straight. "Your _memory_ is invalid; he himself told you he's a werewolf after you confronted him about his unusual and extremely dodgy behaviour."

On his bed, Sirius flapped his arms overdramatically as though he was trying to fly. "We _confronted_ him!"

Pettigrew pulled a face at him. "About being a vampire! Honestly... No offense, guys, but you two saving someone's life? Might not be the best idea you've had."

James brought his hands together and snorted, "Now he's just saying things." To Sirius he said, "I think we should stop listening to him at this point."

"I did that yesterday." Sirius straightened his back and gently slapped Remus on the legs. "Now, gentlemen, think: for whom he could be carrying the torch? Who was he thinking while grinding my bed soggy?" He eyed his bed, not the boy who was sleeping on it.

"Melanie," James said immediately. "No doubt about it. Proper wet-dream material that one."

"Who?" asked Peter.

"_Melons_. You know, the dark Ravenclaw with enormous –" James made a very enlightening gesture on his chest. "Amounts of personality? ...Scary, even." He flicked his index finger at Sirius. "Or so said the bloke from Hufflepuff, you know. The one who has the pig nose now? Apparently she didn't appreciate his extravagant advances that much."

"Remus would know better than that, so I don't think it's her," Sirius told them meditatively whilst staring at Remus' face. He licked his lower lip. "Who else is there?"

For a moment all three of them did nothing but thought about the ocean of girls in Hogwarts, as if they had other hobbies.

"Vicky!" Peter cried suddenly, slamming his hands together. "She's fit! I'm sure _even_ _Moony_ would want to –"

Sirius quickly shook his head. "Yeah, but no. Too posh."

"How about Geri?" James suggested with a flippant tone. "She has red hair, and we all know that red-haired are the best ones. Which reminds me, Lily told me that –"

"Forget Geri," interrupted Sirius uninterestedly.

"Emma's nice, too," Peter reminded them. "And bright even though she doesn't give it away – she won the Herbology writing competition with a 16-foot essay, titled devotedly _The Soul Life of a Soybean Sprout_. It was life-changing." He sighed, shaking his head. "I cried for hours."

To that Sirius simply answered, "No."

James offered, "Then how about –"

"I said_ no_."

James stared at Sirius with an exhausted face. "Why the bloody hell not? You want them for yourself? Fat chance!" James scoffed at Sirius' annoyed expression and stood up. "Also, now's not the time to prioritise things according to your _own_ dick! Think of his!"

"No, what I mean is that none of them is good enough to be his fucking mate!" Sirius groused indignantly at him, standing up himself. "I mean; do you honestly reckon that this guy," he waved his hand again at the werewolf, "would want to _mate_ with any of them?" He kept his eyes on James. "You do understand what mating means, don't you, James? You said it yourself, it's probably eternal, and you're suggesting _Melons_?" With every word his voice had got a bit higher. "...Really?"

James huffed and brought his hands to his hips like a scolding mother. "Anyone in their right mind would want to mate with her! She might spice up his life a bit! The bloke sure as hell looks like he would need a bit of action every now and then!"

"Hear, hear," said Peter.

"He's not like that!" Sirius hissed at Potter, tugging the leg of his boxers. "Have you two ever seen the birds he's been friendly with? I'm pretty fucking certain he knows that he deserves so much more than just some vain, self-obsessed idiot!" He grinned at his friends, who were just watching him in despair. "_You two_ should think with your head for a change, too!"

"Well, that's not up to you, now is it?" James griped back. "If he happens to fancy one of them, if he wants to mate with _Melons_, then it's obviously her who –"

"Sir... uh."

That nearly inaudible comment from the direction of the bed froze the whole situation. Sirius was staring at Remus, who had turned on his back in his sleep; James lifted his chin at the sight as though showing the few whiskers he had on it would make him understand the happening any better – and Peter, well, he was already crouching next to the bed, poking Remus in the cheek. Two seconds later all three of them were hovering over Remus, trying to crawl closer just in case he was going to gabble something significant again.

"Did he say Sheila?"

"I'm pretty sure there's not a single Sheila in this school, Pete."

"Are you positive he didn't say Shirley?"

"Surely you know how he enunciates certain vowels, there's no way to tell. That in mind, it might have been Sophia, as well. Or... I don't know, Steve."

"Or maybe Stephie?"

"Yeah, it probably was Stephie. She's a fox," Sirius sighed miserably while moving further away from Remus' face. He moved to sit on the bed next to the boy, and by doing so, he lightly touched his upper arm. "Damn it... and my argument for his sake was _perfect_." He shook his head. "What a way to prove a bloke wrong _and_ make him feel like shit at the same time. Cheers, Remus."

Turning towards Sirius' voice, Remus moaned a bit louder, "Sirius..."

The three boys stared at the werewolf without blinking an eye, while Remus nuzzled his nose against Sirius' naked hip.

Peter cleared his throat in a grand manner. "So, guys, have you heard the news?" He grinned widely. "_Apparently_ the heart of this bloke has chosen someone who's not anywhere near a vain, self-obsessed idiot!"

With undeniably red cheeks, Sirius turned his eyes on him. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!"

* * *

**A/N:** I have written this completely already, but before uploading the following chapter(s) I just need to know if people want to read this further. Y/N? Reviews are appreciated. :) xo

PS. If you spotted my poorly hidden Spice Girls references, I love you dearly.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for all the lovely reviews, and sorry for not replying to them! I've been awfully busy, getting into school and moving (and all other excuses), but I still try to get these things done. I'm kind of embarrassed to constantly say how sorry I am, taking so much time with my updates (the one that is killing me on daily basis is the AU, still). I hope you all like this second chapter, too - it's getting so ridiculous now. I sincerely hope that this doesn't look like one of those 'serious mating' stories and I wish no one's expecting any of the sort, because this is so not like that. :D Just something idiotic, as always from yours truly.

Hope you like it, xo!

**Beta:** No.

**Warnings:** (I feel like I should put this here) **dub-con **

* * *

"Merlin help me, I'm going to die," Sirius muttered tiredly to his friends over the breakfast table the next morning. He rubbed his face and was barely able to hold his eyes open, which wasn't that strange on a Saturday morning per se, but this time he seemed to be in more pain to be awake at 8am than usual. "I didn't sleep a wink! He was so hot, and he kept moaning my name the entire night." Sirius made a face at his friends, who didn't seem to be overly concerned of him and the visibility of his palate. "It was educational, though – he cited the first half of the introduction chapter of the _Advanced Runes Translation_ – you know? The big-arse book he carried the whole of last year?" He snatched a slice of toast from a dish in front of him and started nibbling it. "I had no idea what he was talking about, but it was captivatingly interesting."

"Shouldn't we tell Poppy that the fever's back?" Peter asked him lazily while ladling scrambled eggs on his plate. "She'll have him back in the infirmary and gives him more meds."

"Not negotiable," Sirius told him sternly. "He doesn't want to be in there, and you heard what she said about St Mungo's." He yawned and waved the toast at Peter. "No, we'll handle this ourselves. Like proper men, who don't need no matrons nor stupid medicines. We've been dealing with his... er, _varying amount of back hair_ for five years now. All we need to do now is to adjust to the situation, learn the parameters and solve the problem. That's all. No..." He yawned again, making it seem as though his mouth might tear. "Biggie."

"So I guess you're not coming to Hogsmeade with us, then?" James asked him disinterestedly, pouring himself a glass of juice. "You're staying here with him? Adjusting to the parameters and so forth?"

"I need to take a manly nap," Sirius mumbled and pressed his face against the table. "My eyes hurt. James, be a darling and bring me a box of Toothflossing Stringmints, will you?" James nodded at him. "Oh, and Remus probably wants Jelly Slugs again, he's always out." Sirius peered at his friend with one eye. "Want money?"

Potter shook his head. "Surely I'll manage."

They fell silent for a while, during which Peter finished his first set of eggs and James found a long hair from his bacon. Sirius didn't even accomplish eating the slice of toast as he proceeded to devour his fingernails while he listened to James and Peter first discuss in length whose they thought the hair was (Snape's) and then revise their plans for the day.

Still slouching on the table, Sirius resumed with a quiet, "See, at one point I thought that being Padfoot would make it less hot. But I was wrong!" He sighed and buried his head in his arms, bringing his fingers to his neck. He was still not wearing his robe. "I was so wrong and it was so much hotter, because he kept hugging me as though I was a large plush toy. Thought I was having a heatstroke and had to change back and then I was all sweaty, too."

"Can you please explain why on Earth did you think that being Padfoot would make it _less_ hot?" asked James incredulously. "He's covered in fur."

"I know!" Sirius whined. "But I wasn't able to think."

"We have all come to the same conclusion at some point of our lives," Peter said sympathetically and leant closer to Sirius over the table. "Besides, no one forced you to sleep in the same bed with him," he told the guy, frowning slightly as Sirius merely pouted back at him. "Quit griping since it was your own fault that you couldn't sleep." Peter straightened his back and eyed James. "I slept like a baby!"

"As did I." James nodded and turned his gaze on Sirius, who, as a result of their harsh yet well-earned criticism, had completely deflated against the wood. "You decided to sleep inside the barrier of the _Muffliato_. ...Why? You know, every so often you call yourself the most brilliant man in all existence, yet to this very day I haven't seen a conclusive evidence of that."

"Had to keep an eye on him." Sirius lifted his head a bit and continued to speak softly for he was very exhausted. He scratched his chin. "I'm not sure which I hate more; the fact that if we want the fever to stay down, he needs to be medicated to the extent that he's comatose – or, if we do nothing to the fever, he will die from it." Sirius made a disgusted face at the food in front of him and grumbled under his breath, "Werewolves, what the fuck. I hate this."

"Dying's shoddier, I'm sure," James then mused blithely, buttering his third slice of toast. "Briar Rose slept a lot, but didn't die young. I believe she had a whole bunch of magical friends who saved her life, and statistically at least one of them had to be chubby," he continued happily and took an eyeful of Peter, who was stuffing food in his mouth. "It's sort of amazing that Muggles write something like that. There's dwarves and dragons in the story, and a prince who snogged the bird awake... or shagged her while she was asleep or something." He frowned. "You know what? I'm not entirely sure what happened, but it was battered with extra creepy."

Peter asked his eggs, "Who's Briar Rose?"

"Some call her the Sleeping Beauty," said James. "It's a Muggle story for kids, or... demented people."

"And what does that have to do with Moony?" inquired Peter sceptically. "He's not veryhandsome, is he?" He sought agreement in his friends, getting a faint nod from James and nothing from Sirius, who had stopped moving and resembled a zombie. "Sleepy, yes, but good-looking? If this is so, I think I have to upgrade my dictionary. I've always thought he sits well in the departments of _sickly_ and _morbidly wonkish_, not beautiful. Now, if we're talking about real beauty, let's discuss Bertha B. from Hufflepuff, shall we?"

"Leave Bertha out of this," said James strictly. "She's too precious for this conversation."

Completely ignoring his friends on the other side of the table, Sirius whispered from his thoughts, "Is he really dying? I can't... believe that. He was still laughing like a maniac a few days ago." He turned his exasperated eyes on James, who was contemplating from where to start eating his toast. "I told him a joke and he laughed until he fell on the floor, crying."

"What sort of a joke?" asked Peter.

Sirius blinked lazily. "Okay. What do you call a fish with no eye?

"What?"

"Fsshhh," concluded Sirius, grinning stupidly.

Both James and Peter stared at him as though he was having a mental breakdown. Peter said, "You know, maybe he's dying because the joke was so bad that it broke his spirit to live."

"But it's not natural!" protested Sirius after he returned to his earlier despondent state of mind. "Someone laughing like that and then dying suddenly? I mean, surely he's not _really_ dying. He can't be."

"You want to bet?" James asked him, his mouth full of bread after he finally took a bite from the toast. He waved the slice at Sirius. "For if you lose, he needs a cave to crawl in. Although, your bed has the quality of one already..."

"Don't take this so bloody lightly, Potter!" Sirius suddenly snapped, and once everyone around them had given him the shut-up-you-idiot look, he lowered his voice and continued carefully, "I see this as though we only have two suitable options here. Either we do absolutely nothing and he indeed dies, which isn't actually even an option. Or he..." Sirius exhaled with care and rubbed his eyes to keep open. "He gets his fever in control by having the, er... the mate he wants."

Peter pursed his lips at that. "So keeping him sedated isn't an option?"

"Of course it isn't," Sirius retorted immediately. "He can't be under medication for the rest of his life, you dumbarse, that's not how things work! And no way in hell are we letting them take him to St Mungo's," he continued frantically as his friends only watched him without saying anything. "The chances are he's never coming back! Have you heard what happened to that one bloke with green head, back in the 60s?"

"No," said James and Peter in unison.

"My point exactly," settled Sirius.

"All right, think about what you're about to do for a few seconds more," James resumed in a friendly manner, while placing his half-eaten toast on the table and wiping his hands on Peter. As he continued to speak, he evidently tried his hardest not to laugh. "Are you actually considering... _mating _with him? As in... Seriously?"

As James initiated, Sirius _did_ think about it. The conclusion he came after a brief calculation was, "If he wants me, then I guess I am, whatever the hell that means in practice."

Pettigrew pulled a nasty face in his general direction. "And why on bloody Earth would you do that?"

"Because what else is there, Pete?" Sirius seemed unquestionably aggrieved by the boy's question. "He's our friend! For example; if one, and only one, inappropriate touch would revive him from his terminal wolf-fever shit, wouldn't you do it?" Sirius kept staring at Peter like the guy had tentacles on his face. "Huh? Wouldn't you? Tell me you would or I'm going to kick you in the jaw!"

Peter squinted. "It depends where I'm touching."

"No, it doesn't!" Sirius snarled, but ended up rubbing his eye rather anxiously. "Shit. I mean... yes, it does a little, but think about what you would accomplish. You would save your friend's life while doing that." Sirius left his face alone and fixed his slightly red eyes on the other side of the table. "You touch yourself all the time, Pete! It's not that different if you really think about it! Save him! Don't be an arsehole!"

Peter smiled infuriatingly back at him and said, "Thank heavens this isn't really about _me_."

"You seem to have given this a lot of thought," noted James, keeping his attention on Sirius' overly fidgeting appearance as well.

"I had a very long night. I even wrote my Astronomy essay." Sirius sighed. "I'm getting slightly worried about myself."

After crossing his fingers sluggishly on the table in front of him, James tilted his head in a manner he had seen their headmaster do quite a few times. "And you're sure you haven't just given up on trying to have sex with someone you _want_ to have sex with, and are planning on taking the easy way out?"

"Oh, so he's the easy way out?" asked Sirius disbelievingly. "Yes, James. I have tried to have sex, but as it so happens that isn't working out as I planned, therefore I am ever so goddamn happy that our friend is _dying_ so I can have my way with him instead! You twat!"

"Let me get this straight," James continued as if Sirius had said nothing and ruffled his hair. He kept his eyes concreted on his best friend's fuming nostrils. "You are going to go and touch him, improperly I might add, while he's basically in a coma so he won't die? Just because you think you are his mate from the way he said your name that one time?"

Sirius thought about all this and nodded.

"And how do you know he's okay with it, again?" James continued. "For hearsay tells me that even though he might have said your name, most people would still consider your advances as... er, Pete?"

"Molesting," said Peter flatly and received a thankful nod from Potter.

Sirius ogled back at them and he elaborated without his voice, "He was having sex with my bed." His eyes watered a bit as he tried to stifle a yawn, and he lifted three fingers up. "Four times – and I'm not counting the midnight thrusts aimed at my thigh area and which I was fortunately but barely able to halt before falling on the floor. You have no idea how fast his hips work. Scary fast! I have bruises!" Sirius feverishly licked his lips. "Also, he won't let go of my robe, even though he's in _my bed, _snuffling into _my_ pillows and hugging _me_. My bed. Mine." He pointed his thumbs at himself. "This guy. You know who I am, right? I'm me, and I'm naked because he has my fucking robe!"

James stared at him blankly. "And with that you're able to conclude he's not going to murder you if he wakes up to this world in the middle of your questionable activities? Sirius, you know very well how easily he can make you feel like a world-class donkey dick."

"He has that certain way of guilting people, similar to McGonagall," concurred Peter. "I wonder if they're related."

Sirius ignored Peter and said to James, "I'll explain everything to him _when_ he wakes up and when he's better, thanks to me."

James seemed to approve his viewpoint, but said nevertheless, "And what if he doesn't? Get better, I mean. You're not even considering the fact that there is a great chance he won't wake up and... with that you'd be basically traumatised forever for nothing."

Agreeing with James, Peter nodded next to him. "I'm with him."

Sirius eyed both of them. "Are you two seriously trying to make me back off? You goons, we don't know how soon he might die!" James tried to say something, but Sirius interrupted with a grievous, "_Die_, I tell you! Perish from the bushes of this realm!" His sleepy rambling was gathering a small crowd around them. "I need to do this so he won't go to meet his maker! Shuffle off this mortal coil! Seriously now, you guys! I'm super-Sirius about this!"

"Oh no," sniggered James and whispered to Peter, "This is bad. He's super-Sirius."

Peter mumbled to his bacon, "He's a drama queen, that's what he is."

Apparently their crowd thought the same and soon started to concentrate on their breakfast again. James sighed. "So, super-Sirius; what exactly are you going to do, then?" he asked. "Since you are so dogged about this, I reckon you already have some sort of a game plan to prevent him from shuffling off from the bushes or whatever the hell that was what you were doing."

Sirius mulled the whole thing over. "Well... I don't know. What exactly is it that two blokes do together? ...Pete?"

"I'm glad you asked," Peter started carefully after wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Studies show that gambling, such as Russian roulette with a Muggle gun, is very exhilarating!" He blinked at Sirius' baffled expression, but otherwise was completely unfazed by it. "You should definitely try that at least once in your life; I personally have participated in the game few times myself, and it was... revolutionising, pants-wise at least. Also, my relationship with the house-elves changed drastically after the last round we had." He lowered his voice a bit. "I haven't met up with them since the burial ceremony."

James smiled affably at Sirius. "Or, if you're not ready to commit an accidental suicide with the workforce, you could always try simple pranking on him." He took a longing eyeful of the Slytherin table. "A proper, tears-inducing prank might do us all good." He pouted. "Even though our girlfriends-to-be say we shouldn't and that it's awfully juvenile for men of our age to conduct pranks." He made a face and continued with a strained voice, "And I'm _not_ juvenile."

"I think," Sirius said quietly to them as if he hadn't even paid any attention to what they were saying, "I'm just going to be a man and touch his dick."

James and Peter stopped functioning.

"Yeah, of course there's always that," Peter declared a few long seconds later and shivered to the extent his toast fell on the floor. "His... blunt instrument."

"You're just going to go at it?" asked James sceptically. "Touching, as in hand-to-dick? Straight on and without any affirmation whatsoever that he does think _you_ are his mate?" He turned his gaze on Peter. "Are we absolutely certain Moony didn't say Melons?"

"He did not," said Peter sadly while he kept his eyes on Sirius. "He was moaning the name of this baboon."

"He is so chivalrous, isn't he," resumed James. "Ready to run to the castle without a single piece of evidence that the princess won't hex him with _Furnunculus_." Potter tilted his head. "He's very arse about face, though; other princes gather evidence first, slay dragons second and get intimate later."

Peter grimaced. "I'd rather get intimate with the dragon than touch Moony's magic wand."

Sirius said nothing to them as he was evidently absorbed in his own ridiculously valiant thoughts considering his friend's genitals, and James, always slightly inclined to extreme jealousy, had to pipe up. Again. "Sirius, are you really sure that when he wakes up, he'll appreciate the fact that his dick is in the grasp of your clammy palm?" Slothfully, Sirius lifted his eyes on his face, but continued to stay in silence. "Then again, personally I do think a handjob is a more appropriate way of proceeding in this case, considering that the other options include mouth congress and... uh, other stuff." James frowned. "A handjob. Yes. A handjob it is. Do your best!"

Next to him, Peter nodded professionally. "I'm sure he'll do fine – he practices almost nightly."

Sirius thought about their words. His tongue found the corner of his opened mouth as he clarified, "Practice or not, I wasn't thinking of just running there and seizing his dick out of the blue, I..." He blinked and bit his thumb nail as he observed the reactions of his friends. "I should start with something else, yeah? Something less... upfront cock-clutching?"

"Yes," James said instantly, sounding relieved and slightly out of breath. "Start with something little. Please."

"Like his dick," Peter pointed out.

Sirius snorted at him. "He's far bigger, _flaccid_, than you could ever be."

The two stared at him again like he was a madman, which Sirius of course wasn't.

"What?" the madman ogled at them back. "He is."

Then Peter realised something that might have changed his world. He almost inhaled his eggs as he was busy asking, "Can I use _Engorgio_ on genitals?!"

"It doesn't work," said James and returned to eat his cold toast.

* * *

A few hours later Sirius rested on his bed with the sleeping werewolf, who again was cuddling Sirius' pillow and was mumbling something that made absolutely no sense to the ears nearby. After the travesty of a breakfast, James and Peter had made their way to Hogsmeade with whereas Sirius had slogged back to the dormitory room, ready to do what he had planned ever since waking up at 6am that morning.

And that was _not_ to immediately shove his hands into Remus' pyjama bottoms, but to have a power nap.

However, that turned out to be harder than he had imagined. Remus' feverish rambling had been continuous and at times very loud, and tremendously faithful to his bed, Sirius didn't even consider sleeping elsewhere. He was good at sleeping on the common room floor, on a desk during classes or his face mushed against a Charms textbook while he was trying to do his homework, but a bed was always a bed. Except if it was Peter's bed, for that would have been like sleeping in a bin. And... James' smell in his sheets was too pungent for Sirius to bear, and, well, Remus' bed was off limits to other people. What choice did that leave him?

He studiously kept observing the way the movement of Remus' lips lessened minute by minute, how his hair was glued on his sweaty forehead no matter how Sirius tried to sweep it behind his ear and how the boy's left brow twitched every now and then, and suddenly, Sirius wasn't that sleepy anymore.

Approximately 118 minutes passed since the breakfast took place, and James, bearing gifts from Hogsmeade, walked up to the bed. He carefully peered in between the curtains. "Oh. I thought you were sleeping."

"As it appears, I cannot do that during the day," Sirius mumbled tiredly and turned on his back, bringing his hand to his forehead and to his eyes from there. "Kind of strange, to be honest. I've never had any problems during Divination class."

"No one has problems sleeping during Divination," said James as though Sirius was mumbling nonsense. He had an enormous Honeydukes' bag in his hands and he sat on the edge of Remus' bed.

"I guess I just have to endure it, then." Sirius yawned. "Did you bring me my sweets?"

James nodded at the bag he was searching through. "Yeah. They also had a sale on Sugar Quills, so I bought a bunch for the both of you, too."

"Thanks," mumbled Sirius and turned to face Remus again. His eyes travelled to the boy's lips, which definitely were moving a bit. "Where's Pete?"

While unloading the insides of the shopping bag on the bed, James snorted to himself. "Lost him before I went to Spintwitches'." He lifted his eyes on Sirius. "And then, you're never going to believe this; later someone told me that some sixth year managed to lure him into Puddifoot's with the promise of cheese-scented tea."

Sirius made a face at him. "...What? Sounds disgusting."

"Tell me about it," sniggered James, pulling on a new pair of Quidditch gloves. He flexed his fingers and briefly nodded towards Remus. "How about you two? Is the stuff of nightmares slumbering or passed out?"

"Sleeping-sleeping," said Sirius, slowly sitting up next to Remus and crossing his legs. He rubbed his eyes a bit. "He was whimpering again earlier, but now he's okay, I guess."

"What did you do to him?" James asked with a smirk, which then turned into a grimace. "No... no, don't tell me. Let me guess! A rusty trombone? I've heard that's an exciting one."

Shaking his head sluggishly, Sirius watched Remus. "I gave him a kiss so he would shut up."

"Well, of course you gave him a kiss, that's perfectly understandable and not weird at all."

"You yourself told me to start small," mumbled Sirius.

James tightened the straps on his gloves. "That I did," he admitted and flopped his hands on his lap. "So, you kissed him. Are you feeling any different? Tingly?"

"I kissed him on the cheek," Sirius explained as though James would need a clarification. "A real quick one. I wanted to see if it did anything to his state – you said that I shouldn't get traumatised for nothing, and I thought that this was a good way of checking if it was... nothing." He smiled lopsidedly at James' deadpanned face. "I mean, I have kissed him before, so what's the worst thing that could have happened now, right?"

"...And?"

"_And_ he instantly stopped whining." Sirius watched him. "That's not nothing, right?"

Surprised by the information, James raised a brow. "It worked?"

"It did," concurred Sirius as merrily as he was able to in his sleep-deprived state. "Then after a while he started moaning again and I gave him another one... on the lips. Purely experimental! And as you can probably observe, they are fairly chapped, his lips. But they were very warm. ...Oddly soft, considering. And James –" At some point Sirius' gaze had dropped on Remus again and he had to meet his friend's eyes. James was seemingly trying not to laugh. "The fever has gone down a bit now, and he's sleeping better, but I might be wrong since I'm pretty exhausted and I'm just thinking about this constantly, but to me he doesn't feel as hot as he was this morning."

James watched Remus drool helplessly on Sirius' pillow. "Yeah, I'm not sure you understand the meaning of _better_."

"Touch him, James."

"I'm not going to do that again," said James and removed his new gloves. "The last time he was drenched in sweat."

"Please," pleaded Sirius pathetically. "He's your friend, too. Please?"

James sighed, stood up and moved closer to feel Remus' neck. A few seconds later he drew his hand away, wiping it on Sirius' four-poster curtain. "So his fever subsided. That's a good thing."

"Yes, my kiss helped him," Sirius said thoughtfully, turning his eyes back on the sleeping boy. He brought his thumb nail between his teeth. "Isn't that... interesting?"

"Certainly. I wouldn't say this confirms that he considers you as his mate," said James with a chuckle. "But congratulations anyway! I'm sure this will lead to the desired cock-fondling." He gesticulated towards the dormitory door. "Shall I leave you two alone?"

"No, but think about it, though," Sirius continued, ignoring James' vulgar hints. "If a dog finds its mate, it doesn't start slowly deteriorating under a fever because the mate _is_. The dog," he emphasised and waved his hands at Remus, "doesn't get ill. The dog goes to get its mate instead of getting depressed." Sirius shook his head slowly and turned his glazed eyes on James. "Dogs are brilliant!"

"He's not a dog."

"Once a month he sort of is; he even has a tail." Sirius tilted his head as he turned his gaze back to Remus. He frowned slightly while scrutinising Remus' facial features. "Just like me. Maybe that's why it's me!" He cackled and offhandedly brushed Remus' hair behind his ear. "Makes sense. Dogs are kind of wolves, and people used to keep wolves as pets, did you know? We are compatible on that front." He squinted as he kept his eyes on Remus. "Do you think he wants me to be his pet?"

James ran a hand across his face. "Just be glad he's down for the count at the moment, otherwise he might bite your arse off."

"That might make him stay up," Sirius mused and ogled at Remus' throat. "Should I..."

James narrowed his eyes and took a step back. "Let me leave before you do anything of the sort, okay?"

Sirius straightened his back and sighed pathetically. It seemed as though he was using all of his brain efficiency to produce somewhat coherent sentences, thus his outward appearance resembled that of a rotting slug. "I just keep wondering why he is like this. Why isn't he telling me he fancies me? I could help." Sirius glanced at James. "I could _really_ help. But no... He's just being Remus and he never says anything. ...What a stubborn imbecile."

"Yeah, he's a chicken, you must know that already," agreed James instantly. "That's what he is. If he was a _dog_, he'd have no insecurities about anything, and at this hour he'd be sniffing at your bum, hence making his desire to be more than friendly with you known." He pointed a finger at Remus. "He's not doing that, ergo he has a horrible fever from which he's going to die. I think it's pretty self-evident, and, well... terminal. He's going to die because he's just _too bloody Remus_."

Sirius looked up at him. He was absolutely serious. "He's not going to die."

"He's not?"

"No." The boy beamed at James. "Since I already have established that my teensy kiss did help him, I can continue doing that and make him better!"

James said unenthusiastically, "So he'll survive because you are going to slobber on him? That's a great plan." He shook his head. "I wonder why no one has thought of that before. A lot of irrational stuff wouldn't have needed to be put in our history books if they just had your brain. Slobbering! Incredible."

"It's either that or my hand in his pants," said Sirius in the direction of Lupin. "And besides, Padfoot slobbers. I... drool discreetly."

"You truly are a discreetly drooling idiot if you think this will actually help him," James told him with a scowl. "Look, maybe we should just bring him to Pomfrey and forget about –"

"I can't hear you over how brilliant I am!" Sirius said ceremonially. "Praise me, James, I am a genius." With that he softly straddled Remus' side, leaning closer to his face. "Sirius Black, a visionary wolf-lover. It tastes nice on my tongue." In a grand manner he licked his lips. "People are going to write books about me."

"If I didn't know for a fact that you are a fool, I would say you are... excited to kiss him." James watched as Sirius indeed drew in closer to Remus' face. "Are you?"

Sirius whispered, "I am not a fool."

James crossed his arms on his chest. "Are you just going to sit on him like you usually do?"

"No. I might actually be able to wake him up by kissing him long enough," said Sirius and turned to watch James. "Bloke needs to eat."

"Do you even have food for him, or are you just going to feed him with the sensation of tenderness? I reiterate, he might not appreciate that."

Sirius waved a hand at his bedside table. James took a look at it and saw tray with sandwiches and a glass of juice. "They sent him those from the kitchen and then I went through Pete's belongings for pastries." He cocked his head. "I wonder how long he'll be up if I snog him thoroughly." He squinted as he stared at Remus slightly parted lips. "With tongue, of course."

James blinked. "Oh god, you're really doing this, aren't you? How can you not understand that you cannot snog anyone while they're unconscious? Without their consent? That's a felony!"

"I have nothing to lose!"

"Really? Not even your freedom?" asked James in a friendly manner. "Pride? Self-respect?" Yet, as Sirius answered him nothing, James leant closer to Remus as well, wanting to see Sirius kiss him. "...What are you waiting for?"

"I need to get in the mood first."

"Well do it quickly, then, I'm sure he hasn't the whole day."

* * *

At lunchtime of that seemingly very long day, Sirius slumped into his usual place at the Gryffindor table, and threw his friends an expression that made him resemble a lovesick, kicked puppy. Neither of which he actually was in reality.

His friends ogled at him back.

James licked his lips after lowering his spoon and asked, "And what's with that face?"

"It's my face," Sirius mumbled sadly. "Yet another thing I cannot do anything about. My life's shaping up to be a turd, wrapped up in a shiny Christmas paper and making me think that it's less fucked than it really is." He turned his eyes on his empty bowl in front of him and pushed it angrily way.

Peter seemed horrified by the movement. "What are you doing!"

"Not hungry," said Sirius petulantly and leant his head on his hands, pouting like a little kid.

"You're going to drop if you don't eat," said Peter almost worriedly. "You only nibbled your toast at breakfast. That, and you've been up for..." He glanced at his bare wrist as it was habitual for the each of them. "28 hours straight."

The rotting slug acted as though he didn't hear him. After shrugging in Peter's direction, James asked Sirius, "How's Moony?"

"The fever's back," Sirius told him quietly, his cheeks mushed against his palms. "Again."

James frowned. "He seemed fine when I left you two," he said. "What happened?"

"Well," Sirius began with a lower voice and wiped his eyes. "As you saw, he woke up once I... kissed him, sufficiently, and after you left, I was able to help him go to the loo, and even eat something, and he really gave the impression that he was a lot better." He shrugged lethargically. "A bit drowsy, though. He didn't realise I had kissed him wake."

"Did you tell him?" asked James carefully. "...Anything?"

"No, but he was asking about the time of day and why he wasn't in the infirmary anymore, so obviously he had some sort of knowledge... about things. That he's been asleep and so forth." Sirius frowned and the wrinkles on his forehead made his tired face look deeply disconcerted. "But in the middle of me reading excerpts of the Potions homework for him, the... fever came back in a rush, and he fell asleep again. And," he continued with even lower voice, "he's moaning my name again."

"Seriously, let's take him to Poppy," proposed Peter. He turned to James next to him for a support. "She could medicate him and the fever could –"

"I already said that's not a solution, Pete," Sirius told him resignedly from the other side of the table. "The book said it's not a solution. Remember the book?" He blinked his eyes vigorously to keep them open. "It smelled horrid, but it is our starting point and we cannot overlook anything it has to offer. _The book_ said that _I_ need to do something to help him, but... what I'm doing is not helping him as I thought it would."

James shook his head and resumed eating his lunch. "Technically the book didn't say any of that; you worked it out by yourself, so to speak."

"I think the book is a lying son of a bitch," determined Sirius resolutely. "And I feel helpless."

After licking his spoon, James waved it at Sirius. "Look. If you genuinely think that you are his mate, then –"

"What do you mean if _I think_?" Sirius scowled at him. "You were there, James. You heard him say my name when he... was acting all overjoyed with the bed. That right there doesn't require much of my thinking. It's a fact."

Peter said to his soup, "Nothing requires your thinking."

"All I'm saying is that if you're so firmly against us taking him back to the infirmary where he could get some proper treatment," resumed James and Sirius nodded at him, "then you shouldn't give up on these ever-so-disturbing efforts to keep him alive." James smiled at Sirius. "Yeah? Believe in the book and I'm certain you shall accomplish heroic things."

Sirius eyed him suspiciously. "Weren't it you who was rather unyielding with that mouldy book and the whole mating business in the first place?" James instantly agreed to this. "Then why don't you believe in it anymore? Now you're suspecting the whole thing."

"Well obviously that was before he uttered your name and I realised he is completely hare-brained," said James cheerily from behind his spoon.

"Oh right," muttered Sirius. "No, wait, what?"

"Never mind," continued James flippantly. "Surely everything will be fine. Just keep doing what you are doing."

Eyeing their bowls almost enviously, Sirius pulled a face and then his own bowl closer to himself. "Keep feeling helpless? I don't want to do that." He snatched the soup ladle from the soup kettle. "It makes me feel..."

"Helpless?" suggested Peter.

"Exactly." Sirius nodded and ladled a pathetic amount of soup for himself. "See, no matter how much I try to make him better now, or I don't know, maybe even wake him up again, it doesn't work anymore. I tried giving him a gazillion kisses and my lips hurt, but he just sleeps and... it's got bad." He dunked his spoon in the soup but made no effort to bring it to his mouth. "He looks like he's in pain."

"Oh, then maybe it's like with heroin," Peter suddenly said.

The two turned their dubious eyes on him.

"Don't look at me like that," Peter muttered and flashed a crooked grin. "I read."

"Sure you do," James agreed, seeming rather interested. "Comic books."

"What sort of comic books do you read, Pete?"

Peter gave them the infamous Pettigrew Eye. "What I'm trying to say is," he started and took a glimpse around him. No one was interested in what he was about to say. "That taking in account the amount of contact you've been so attentively bestowing upon him, maybe his tolerance for your touching has already increased."

"Tell me more," James then groaned with an utterly bored voice. He turned to eat his more stimulating lunch. "Tell me more..."

Sirius was groaning, as well, but not because of Peter – he grunted at the food and again pushed the bowl away since evidently the grub didn't cater to his debonair taste. His slightly red eyes were nailed tightly on Peter as he did this. "Continue."

Peter watched him back. "You've got to kick it up a notch if you want to help him."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like with everything you fancy, really," clarified Peter obligingly. "Think of pies for instance. You start eating one blueberry pie, once a day, and everything's fine, you feel great. But suddenly one is not enough anymore. You start eating two, three, then you need an apple pie besides the blueberry one you just ate. You start wondering how a strawberry tart might taste like in the middle of the night. Suddenly, the one blueberry pie is not enough for you." Peter inclined his head as if to emphasise what he was talking about. "Moony needs more pie."

Sirius couldn't avert his eyes from his face. "James, I'm scared. Pete's making sense."

"I don't think so."

After shrugging at them, Peter continued. "You can try to convince yourself that everything's the way it was before, but in your gut you know you need more. _He_ needs more horse to feel good. To wake up, to get living!"

Sirius frowned. "Horse?"

"Heroin. Lupin needs more heroin," Peter elaborated quietly. "H, smack, brown, _black_?" He waggled his brows, but since Sirius looked completely lost, he sighed. "You do know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Sirius shook his head. "No?"

"Heroin."

"Heroin?" repeated Sirius. "Moony-heroin? ...All right, okay. Got you, I guess."

"You're not seriously listening to him, are you?" James whispered to Sirius over the table once Peter had returned to slurp his soup.

"If he knows that many nicknames for heroin," Sirius breathed back, "I might have to."

* * *

Yet again Sirius strutted quickly and rather determinedly back to their dormitory room after lunch. He lowered the few apples he had managed to snatch from the Great Hall on his bedside table, and he quietly sat on the edge of his bed, next to Remus' interwoven legs.

Just sitting there a couple minutes, he silently witnessed the way Remus' closed eyelids fluttered faintly in the rhythm of his breathing, and then he muttered to himself, "More heroin, huh..."

After a second or two of really thinking about it, Sirius hopped properly on the bed and straddled the sleeping boy's legs again. Co-operatively his brain noted that it was almost becoming a habit of his, straddling Remus; as expected, Sirius disregarded the whole notion and moved closer.

"Moony?" he asked very cautiously, his breathing already hovering on the boy's face, but unsurprisingly, he got no answer.

So, as he saw he had no other choice than to just try out Peter's idiotic plan about being a highly addictive drug, Sirius cupped Remus' face and kissed his warm forehead. That didn't do much; Remus merely moved the tiniest bit in his sleep and left a tad salty aftertaste on Sirius' lips.

Not really caring about his apparent failure, Sirius kissed him again, only this time he moved his lips on Remus' the left temple. The peck tasted exactly as briny as the one before that and still nothing extraordinary happened. Not discouraged by this, Sirius hasted a trail of kisses downwards until he reached Remus' previously mentioned chapped, half-open lips, but as he knew it would make no difference whatsoever if he kissed those again, he just pecked them lightly and made his way forward on Remus' jaw.

Once in every few seconds Sirius had to draw a hefty lungful of air, for he was so focused on his task that he forgot to breathe sufficiently. However, as his lips worked their way down Remus' neck, his fingers co-operated a lot better than his internal organs – as soon as his lower lip had grazed Remus' clavicle, his index fingers and thumbs were already opening the boy's pyjama buttons, granting his mouth naturally more access.

Sirius lifted his gaze on Remus' face and notified the werewolf about the extreme saltiness of his neck. One might assume that Remus said absolutely nothing back, which was the case, yes.

"Figures..." Sirius muttered, and kissed the clavicle he had been introduced a few seconds earlier. And, well, obviously not thinking too much anymore at this point, Sirius licked the obtrusive bone after the hasty kiss, and then gently bit his teeth into it. There was a bone and Sirius was a dog. Occasionally.

The body under him shivered and let out a small "Ah".

Instantly Sirius' eyes shot up. "Moony?"

No, Remus was only moving a bit under him. Sirius huffed.

"All right-y then," he said and continued to open Remus' pyjama top. As though in a haze he kissed and licked the more and more exposed skin, not really thinking anything but the manner in which Remus' breathing thickened under him. The way his back arched towards Sirius just a bit was very astonishing as well.

Finally having opened the last of the shirt buttons, Sirius moved the fabric from the way of the all-inclusive view. He opened the shirt as though it was a chest full of gold, tilting his head back and squinting as if he was afraid of getting blinded by the glitter of –

There was nothing. Sirius blinked. "Oh yeah," he said to himself as he ran his oddly energetic hands on Remus' flat and scarred chest. "No tits!" Sirius felt the guy's ribs under his fingers. "Man, you should eat more, you're skeletal." Instinctively he reached for the bedside table and brought one of the apples to Remus' sleeping face. "See? I brought you food. Wake up!"

Remus, true to his rowdy and rebellious nature, did not obey.

Huffing and puffing like a proper wolf tearing down a house of three obstinate pigs, Sirius bit his teeth into the fruit and tossed it then on the bed next to him. As in hurry, he munched the bite, then leant closer and pressed his appley lips on Remus' skin again, this time on where he thought the breastbone was. He lifted his eyes on Remus' face as his lips gave way to his tongue. He licked the skin and as a reply, Remus inhaled sharply. "Unh..."

The earlier smirk returned on Sirius' face. "So, that's how you like it? Naughty Moony, always playing so courteous."

His sharp nose scraping the skin Sirius moved sideways on Remus' heaving chest, and suddenly his lips found a slightly pink rosebud.

"Oh! What are _you_ doing here, Mr Nipple?" Sirius tiredly snorted to himself, turning his head as though he was listening the nipple speaking. "...What? You want a kiss as well?" He took a look of Remus' face. "Moony, can I give him a kiss? I think he wants one."

Remus' lower lip twitched. "Nn."

"What was that?" Sirius asked him, straightening his back.

Remus withered feebly in his sleep while Sirius' fingers danced ballet on his ribs.

"Oh shit, now he's saying he's going to hold you to ransom if I don't do it," Sirius said gloomily, still keeping his eyes on Remus' puckered brows. "You took too long to answer, Moony. I have to do this to save your sorry arse."

After stooping down and quickly sliding his tongue on it, Sirius bit his teeth on the nipple rather vigorously – and as he was again ready to lick the thing as an apology (naturally, it made total sense in his sleep-deprived mind), only then did he realise that Remus had stopped squirming under him.

"Who... what," Lupin grunted. "When? ...What year?"

"Yes! I did it, I'm brilliant!" Sirius grinned at Remus' blushed cheeks and sat up, scooting to sit on his hipbones, back straight but still not moving anywhere from his straddling position. His hands stayed firmly on Remus' chest. "Moony," he sighed cheerfully. "Welcome back! Again."

Remus squinted at him and asked, "Where was I?"

"Moony, what are your thoughts regarding this situation which we're in, presently?" Sirius tilted his head as he studied Remus' face. "Are you still feverish?" He felt the boy from his sides and naturally thought that he should also feel Remus' warmth by pressing his cheek on his chest. Soon enough Sirius was up again and continued beaming. "I think it's gone down! Excellent. Are you hungry? Need the loo?" He snatched the apple from the bed. "Here, eat this."

Not appreciating the gift, Remus said, "Could you get off me?"

"That wouldn't be wise at all." Sirius placed the apple on Remus' shoulder, against the pillow behind his head. "I think I should stay right here where I am and make sure that you are really awake. And the lads basically said that getting you off would be a better choice than getting off you, but I don't think I need to do that now. Or do you reckon?"

"What?" Remus asked drowsily, rubbing his eyes. "I cannot... feel my legs." He yawned and grimaced a bit. "Was there a wasp?" He brought a hand to his chest. "Ah. Something stung me, I think – and why am I all sticky?"

Sirius answered the accusation by taking Remus' face between his hands again and pressing a forehead on his. "You should be proud of me, Moon Moon. I've been working really hard."

"Moon Moon..." Remus chortled sluggishly as he pushed Sirius away from his face. "I've told you to not use that."

"I think it's funny," protested Sirius. "Kind of makes you sound like a mentally challenged werewolf."

"The very thing I strive to be on daily basis." Remus took a lazy look at the clock on Sirius' nightstand. "It's 1pm?" His eyes found Sirius. "Is it still Saturday? Or how long have I been sleeping?"

"The correct questions, my man," Sirius replied as he straightened his back fully again after flicking a strand of stray hair from Remus' forehead. "Not, 'Sirius, _why _are you on top of me, _why_ are you touching me', like Potter would ask. You're considering the time." He tapped Remus' nose with his index finger. "I should express my gratitude to Pete, really. He had this dazzling theory about heroin which happened to had truth behind it, apparently. Heroin kicks arse!"

"I don't understand a thing you're saying." Remus watched him indolently. "Why aren't you in Hogsmeade?"

"Better things to do," Sirius told him without going to the depths of what he was talking about. That might have taken some time. "I made Potter bring you sweets."

Frowning, Remus blinked. "Thank you – however, that won't excuse you shamelessly invading my personal, well, everything. I have said this a thousand times, Sirius, I am not a chair."

"You know, I've been thinking about that for a few years," said Sirius ceremonially as he rolled off the boy and sat on the bed next to him. "I think it's time to add being a chair to the activities you do over the weekends. Do you think I accidentally sit on you every time? No. It's because you look like a chair."

Lupin tried to sit up by himself, but was apparently too weak to manage such a thing. Sirius helped him to sit against a mountain of pillows propped beside the headboard of the bed. Remus noticed something odd about himself. "Why is my shirt open?"

"Oh, that?" Sirius scratched his head. "Er, well, you need a bath, so naturally I was preparing you by taking your shirt off? Obviously."

A successfully sceptical expression flashed on Remus' exhausted face. "The natural way would have been to wake me up first, not start undressing me."

Equally as tired, Sirius still beamed at him. "But you have been asleep all this time – the customs have changed. Cutlery? Long gone. We all have to fly backwards now, Hufflepuff is a house fully intended to domesticated animals and Pete's not allowed to part his hair to the left anymore."

"Terrible. Why I'm not in the infirmary?" Remus asked and snatched the apple from the bed to where it had landed. He eyed it but only lowered it on his lap. "I think my fever came back?"

Sirius watched the boy. "It's been kind of surging," he said meditatively. "You... want to go to the infirmary? I mean, Poppy's fine with it. I can take you there if –"

"No," uttered Remus instantly. "I'd rather stay here. I just don't feel like having a bath right now."

"You're all clammy," continued Sirius directly as if making the boy bathe _had_ been part of his previous plan. He demonstrated by touching Remus' sticky chest. "Feel that? And it's a fact that clamminess needs to be washed off if you want to get better. I know this, because Poppy told me. And you're all sweaty. Salty." Sirius shrugged as Remus merely eyed him in return. "Besides, she said that if you start stinking, I should do the old-fashioned sponge thing on you, you know, what they do to people with leprosy, but then she added that I can always bring you back to the infirmary to have a bath if you start resisting." He stared at Remus in the eye. "Infirmary. Bath. _Poppy_."

Remus feebly shook his head. "It's not... really, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." He covered his chest with the shirt. "Just... let me sleep for a while, okay?"

"No!" Sirius lunged at him and took him by his shoulder. "Honestly, man, you're rancid. I have to do something or you'll... er, melt the sheets. So, which is it; me, or Poppy?"

"I don't smell anything," said Remus, a frown on his face.

"That's because you are sick, I believe," Sirius lied to him scientifically, slyly snaking a hand to touch Remus' neck, feeling it in case the fever was returning again. "Your olfaction is damaged because of the fever. I read about it in a..." He swallowed as he tried to think. "_Book_. You like books, don't you? I read a book." He inclined his head. "We should stick together. No sleeping – not until we get you all sorted out, okay?"

"What?" Remus managed before he yawned. "Sirius, I smell _you_ just fine, I'm... I really don't need a bath right now. I don't even think I can walk."

Sirius stared at him gravely. "Look. I didn't want it to come to this, but I _will_ take you back to the infirmary if you won't comply. _Petrificus Totalus_ and _Mobilicorpus_, Moony."

Remus watched him back. "You wouldn't hex me."

"You want to bet?"

* * *

**A/N:** Third chapter, well, it's the last (dun dun dun). Want to know what's going on? Y/N?


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